I WANT TO SATISFY THE UNDISCLOSED DESIRES IN YOUR HEART
by MrsSuperman93
Summary: Bobby's dead, and J.R. and Pamela learn just how tragedy can bond people together.
1. The Wake

Undisclosed Desires

**One; "The Wake"**

Sue Ellen Ewing battled to brush aside the craving for a drink, just one sip of Dutch courage before she forced herself to face him. Dignity – or as much as she could muster – in every step that brought her closer to her husband, both hands started to manically loosen and tighten the grip on her purse like a nervous twitch. Her hazel eyes preyed on his form, slumped and stretched out over two white wicker chairs on the porch, one of which his jacket had been lazily draped over the back. His tie had been loosened from underneath his chin and his eyes seemed to gaze off to the distance as if he were far removed from the tragic reality of Bobby's death.

"I shouldn't have left after the funeral." She shrugged her shoulders, whole-heartedly ashamed of her inconsiderate decision. Lacking a real explanation, she hoped a simple admission would suffice, "It was wrong."

His distant gaze dismissed her presence, his verbal response the only real acknowledgement. "You should've thought about that before you deserted the family." In consideration of the circumstances, it wouldn't have killed her to show an essence of loyalty to him and, if not to him, then to his family.

Knowing full well how much J.R. revelled in inflicting the punishment of others, Sue Ellen decided to let the remark slide and stood her ground. "It was a mistake." The funeral may have been a small and intimate affair but eyes were still eyes; oilmen thrived on scandal, almost as much as their socialite wives did, and the rumour that Mrs J.R. Ewing had been accompanied to the funeral by Clayton Farlow's son would spread faster than Marilee Stone's legs in the process of hazing a fresh face in the oil business.

"Little late to apologise, isn't it?" J.R. side-eyed his wife; the damage to his reputation had already been done, not to mention the wound to his ego. The presumption that Sue Ellen would stand by him in times of tragedy, regardless of their marital status, had been crushed and J.R. found himself in the unusual situation of feeling a fool.

"J.R., you're not the only one who's hurting." Her voice remained calm as she softly reprimanded him, reminiscent of the tone a teacher would use to scold a small child. "Bobby was very special to me too." Sue Ellen knew her husband well enough to see the waves of self-pity that floated around him, the very way they had done after Jock's death. The history between them, back then, had prevented her from diving into the storm and dragging him to safety but Sue Ellen recognised that Bobby's death could be just the push they needed to rescue the sinking ship that was their marriage.

Mildly comforted by the reassurance of her affection for Bobby, J.R. flicked his head, "He wasn't your brother."

His eyes continued to avoid contact with hers and Sue Ellen contained every particle of self-control, careful not to reach out and console him, at least not until he could fully acknowledge her remorse. "I loved him." Somehow, Sue Ellen felt like she spoke those words for the both of them; J.R. had never been entirely comfortable with public, verbal displays of affection, even to the ones closest to him.

Finally, J.R. swung his head in her direction with a stern expression. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" If she hoped he would be so blinded by his loss for Bobby that he would forgive her betrayal without assuming retribution, she would be sorely mistaken.

"Don't you think I share your pain?" For a faltering moment, Sue Ellen lost her patience, not that anyone would have noticed; her voice didn't even rise a decibel. The anger didn't come from bitterness, or the sense that J.R. seemed to mock her attempt to reach out, but from frustrated concern for his state of mind. There he sat, like a little boy lost, but if he would only open himself to her an inch more, the loneliness wouldn't overwhelm him so.

"Oh, I won't let you." J.R. snapped his response faster than lightening, his eyes flared as he dared her to challenge him a second time. "We haven't shared anything in a long, long time, Sue Ellen. Not my love, or my bed, or the responsibility for John Ross." He scoffed, eyeing her enviable figure become the pure embodiment of downtrodden; a shadow of the Texas beauty queen he had fallen in love with. "What's left?"

Sue Ellen's mouth twitched, resentful of those unforgiving eyes. Grief had an undeniable sway over people, forcing the ugliest traits to emerge from the shadows and J.R.'s beastly characteristics were just beneath the surface. "We could help each other," she offered, her voice the very epitome of genuine. Surely this wasn't where their marriage was destined to end; in the wake of Bobby's death, when emotions were high. If Sue Ellen had any real power over her fate, this was the moment to harness it and make it work to her advantage.

J.R. didn't even hesitate to contemplate her proposition. Though the temptation to bury himself in Sue Ellen became stronger than the aroma of his mother's famous Chilli Con Carne in the summer heat, J.R. wouldn't let her escape the threat of ostracism before he welcomed her back into his good books. Besides, Sue Ellen's misguided decision to appoint Dusty Farlow as her plus one to Bobby's funeral was just another crack in their marriage, that loomed further than the Leaning Tower of Pisa, threatening to annihilate the innocents underneath. "Go back to your bottle; that's the only help you need." Like respect, loyalty is a provision that comes hand in hand, and, in recent weeks, the two times J.R. had needed her most – in the critical moment of John Ross' illness and the moment Bobby died – Sue Ellen had been absent, presumably in favour of her faithful friend; the bottle.

Horrified, her eyes became wide in the most defensive of natures, "I haven't been drinking!" If J.R. only knew how strong the undisclosed allurement of alcohol had become since Bobby's death… and the temptation had increased considerably in volumes since the start of this conversation.

Any admiration J.R. once held for Sue Ellen had dissipated, now replaced by a look of disdain. "The day's young yet." The animosity between them swept, like an unforeseen hurricane, and Sue Ellen abandoned any hopes of a bittersweet reconciliation suceedding Bobby's funeral. Head bowed, tail between her legs, Sue Ellen turned and started to walk toward the house; if she couldn't repay her respects to J.R., she needed to explain herself to Miss Ellie, a woman who had shown more maternal affection toward her since she had married J.R. than her own mother had done since the day she was born. Alert, J.R. snapped his head in her direction, "Where're you going?"

His question delayed Sue Ellen's slow, mournful walk away from him, "I have to see Miss Ellie."

"Don't even think about it." While they battled in the most dysfunctional of ways, the Ewing's stood by one code of honour in times of trouble; all for one and one for all. If he couldn't rely on Sue Ellen to be one of his biggest advocates, he couldn't rely on her period, which meant the Ewing's couldn't either.

"J.R., please," she swivelled on the spot to face him. Her voice cracked a little with her words and Sue Ellen was prepared to beg, if neccessary; whatever it took. She owed Miss Ellie an explanation. "I'm sorry."

"You're a terrible embarressment, Sue Ellen, nobody around here wants to see you." This time, when J.R. faced his wife down with that disciplinary look in his eyes, he couldn't ignore the glistening tears in her hazel eyes and his voice softened somewhat, even if words delivered a harsh dismissal. "You're sinking, honey, and you're dragging me down with you. I can't allow that to go on, not my sake, or my son's." One of life's paramount lessons, of which Jock had beaten into J.R., was the law of evolution; in order for the strongest to survive, the weak must be killed, and Sue Ellen was most definitely one of the weak. As essential as a mother was for his son, what kind of a mother did the hold her addiction have over Sue Ellen make her?

The torment of failure paralysed Sue Ellen and only her lip quivered, "He's my son too." After her absence – physical and emotional – in John Ross' toughtest experiences, Sue Ellen had doubted her ability to be a mother as much as J.R. did but the fact the remained; John Ross was her son, her only child.

Shooting his wife an unsympathetic look, J.R. remained disconnected from the undeniable evidence of her broken, disheartened remains. "He doesn't have a mother. I don't have a wife; you don't exist." The devastation of his cruel exile caused Sue Ellen to bow her head in shame but J.R. refused to relinquish the power he had over his submissive. "You're just a bad memory that doesn't know when to go away." His final blow winded Sue Ellen and, as he turned his head in ignorance of her reaction, J.R. could only hear the fast-paced click of her heels as she abandoned him again and his world filled with a deathly silence once more.

Stepping out from the house, tormented by one too many acknowledgments for the love she and Bobby shared, and intrusive sympathetic stares, Pamela noticed an emotion etched onto J.R.'s face and it was one she rarely witnessed from him; regret. A blur of navy blue eclipsed behind the evergreen bush planted on the edge of Southfork's elognated driveway and Pamela frowned, "Where's Sue Ellen going?"

Unwilling to engage in any form of communcation for too long, J.R. turned his head away and tried to free himself of the image of Sue Ellen fleeing Southfork, "I don't know and I don't care."

A formidable flash of anger exploded onto Pamela's face, despite the strain of the days' events, and she folded her arms across her chest. "Do you really need to be so cruel, J.R.?" Respect for her late ex-husband prevented Pamela from calling J.R. on his cold shoulder toward Sue Ellen at the funeral, which even she had noticed in the midst of her grief, but Pamela wasn't one to engage in shoddy facades; she had never liked J.R. and Bobby's death didn't change her opinion of him. She hadn't relished the idea of enduring the get-together at Southfork after the private funeral but her devotion to Miss Ellie firmly held her back. Now unwittingly opening herself for confrontation, Pamela wished she had accepted Jamie's offer of a drive home. "I know this may come as a surprise to you, J.R., but you're not the only one who's in pain. We're all here because we loved Bobby and, no matter what problems the two of you are facing this month, that includes Sue Ellen." Despite the crushing prospect of a future without Bobby, and the serene mood at Southfork, Pamela couldn't help but add in an acidic remark about J.R. and Sue Ellen's blundering marriage.

Antagonised by her interference, J.R. leapt from his position and turned on her with a heinous snarl. "After the way you treated my brother; ripped his child away from him, you are in no position to lecture me about my marriage!" Her imitation of a do-gooder had ruffled J.R.'s feathers since the day Bobby brought home the baby Barnes. She went against everything the Ewing name stood for; a pure feminist with no business mind, especially not for oil, and most importantly no loyalty to the preservation of his father's company.

"After the way I –" Riled beyond the brink of no return, Pamela clenched her fists into balls of fury and her eyes widened in disbelief his nerve. "After the way _I_ treated him? Bobby and I would never have divorced, if it weren't for your mind games and your little tricks! Don't think I don't know how you manipulated my sister into playing along, J.R.. It was under your influence that she wrote that letter to split us up and, when she realised that we could never really be parted, she went insane and tried to kill me!" Discovered on Katherine's body had been her receipt for the rented apartment under their mother's original birth name "Rebecca Blake" where police had located several diaries circa 1983 – from the day their mother returned to Dallas, to the day Katherine died – which were released to Pamela. The hatred, envy and bitterness were as clear as the unnamed third party that was J.R. Ewing and Pamela could perceive just how easily J.R. pushed the unhinged woman's buttons to her murderous intentions.

His ears pricked dilligently at her words and J.R. watched her face fall, as she listened to the words escape her lips, ignorant of the filter called self-control. "Never be parted?" J.R. faithfully recited her words, previously oblivious to the depth of the meaning, but the pieces of the puzzle quickly started to fall into place. "Are you telling me that the reason that that headcase you call a sister murdered my brother is because he was stupid enough to fall prey to your advances a second time?" The utter criminality of his brother's death knocked J.R. sideways and he shook his head, as he looked to the cloudy grey skies, "Oh, Bobby, I always knew you were a fool..."

Panic started to suffocate Pamela's heart and she closed in, "Think what you like, J.R., but if you breathe a word of this to anyone, most of all Jenna, I will come looking for you." No one could possibly understand, most would brand it a "betrayal" and Bobby's memory would be tainted, and all for what? What could have been...

He watched with sour eyes as Pamela strutted away from the scene of the crime and he slumped back into the wicker chair with a contemplative frown. Parallel to his relationship with Sue Ellen, his younger brother had been drawn back to Pamela in his last days and J.R. started to wonder exactly what it was that Bobby saw in that damn Barnes woman.


	2. Where There's A Will, There's A Way

Undisclosed Desires

**Two; "Where There's a Will, There's a Way"**

Gathered in Harv Smithfield's office, the Ewing clan – or what was left of it – sat patiently in wait to hear the family lawyer reel out Bobby's last wishes. Sat behind Miss Ellie and J.R., almost tucked away from sight, Pamela listened numbly as Harv reached Jenna's name in the will and she couldn't help the bubbling pit of envy in her stomach; to the unknowing world, Jenna was the "grieving widow" of sorts and Pamela was only the ex-wife. If she thought about it, she supposed Jenna did have reason to grieve, perhaps even more than she did. After all, while she had had many years of happiness with Bobby as her husband, for Jenna, Bobby was just "the one that got away" and fate had cruelly ripped them apart again.

"To Jenna Wade," Harv declared, correcting the position of his glasses. "I leave sole ownership in the boutique known by her name. Do with it, as you wish. I think I wanted it for you more than you ever did." Pamela could believe that; Bobby had always been such a kind and generous soul, more than happy to share his wealth and his privilege with the rest of the world, no matter where they came from. "Also I leave the lump sum of five hundred thousand dollars, of which I request one fifth be put in trust for your daughter." At the words "your daughter", Pamela shamefully let her heart skip a little beat. Speculation had surrounded Charlie's paternity for many years and, with her own insecurities about children, it was the possibility that Bobby could have fathered Jenna's daughter that made Bobby's childhood sweetheart such a threat, rather than the history they had shared.

Even from behind, Pamela could see the blonde's shoulders slump slightly as yet another wave of reality crashed on the island of hope that Bobby wasn't really gone for good, but she tore her eyes away from Jenna as Harv swiftly moved on. "To Ray, my brother, I leave the thing he loves best; the land." A wistful smile uncomfortably settled on Pamela's lips as she looked toward Bobby's half-brother, who stood behind Jenna, his hand rested firmly on the back of her chair with Donna beside him. It seemed a lifetime ago that she and Ray had once been an item and Pamela would be forever indebted to him for introducing her to the youngest Ewing son; the love of her life. "I place all my real estate holdings, commercial and agricultural, in his steady hands. It gives me particular joy that Cedar Ridge, the seven thousand acre range adjacent to Southfork is among these properties." The look of overwhelming incredulity on Ray's face divulged to Pamela just how much meaning the designated property held for him. "I bought that land on your recommendation; you said it was an investment in the future. You couldn't have been more right." It started to occur to Pamela just how fearlessly Bobby declared his love for others, his lion heart unafraid to show his faith in others. "Now I invest the future of all these holdings in you and I rest easy knowing I couldn't be more right in doing it." His older brother had to wipe a tear from his eye and Pamela predicted there would be no hope for controlling her own emotions if Ray couldn't hold himself together.

A moment of silence and look of hesitance flashed over Harv's face when he reached the next passage. "Ellie, my beautiful mama." Steady as a rock, Miss Ellie simply bowed her head patiently in acceptance, as ready as she would ever be to hear from her son beyond the grave. "I can't begin the count the gifts you've filled my life with. One was more precious than the next. There is one I wish to return, should you survive me." The injustice of Bobby's death started to batter Pamela, and the entire room, all over again; no mother should ever outlive her child. "A gold pocket watch which was your fathers and his father's before." Vague memories of the golden pocket watch were scattered in Pamela's brain as she recalled just how much Bobby was captivated by the history it held. "I treasured it always, it made me feel connected to a past I only knew through your stories; what proud stories they were. Don't forget them, mama. Don't let them die. It's time this old watch was passed on to the next generation. I know you'll choose someone special and I know they'll treasure the stories behind it as much as I did."

"Gary, my brother, you've made your own fortune in California; I'm proud of you." If he had been in attendance, Pamela knew those last four words would have touched Gary's heart; the very words Gary had needed to hear from their father. How did Bobby always know what to say? "Of what you've accomplished there. When we were kids, you and I found a mare running wild. Daddy promised she'd be mine if I could break her. He never knew you did it for me, almost broke your back in the process. I want you to have Banjo, he's a lot like that mare that you broke; spirited, full of life, just like you."

A small smile was shared between Harv and Miss Ellie before the lawyer's tone changed with the mood of the letter as he looked toward the eldest Ewing son. "J.R., we've had our good times, we've had our fights. Through it all, I never stopped loving you and I'd like to believe you never lost sight of your love for me." Like everyone else in the room, Pamela's attention became drawn to J.R., except her expression held nothing but resentful reluctance to share Bobby's hopes. From her perspective, the torturous mental cost of loving J.R. Ewing had never been deemed a sound investment; if he did love anyone other than himself, his jaded expression of that affection devoured any chance of the recipient feeling it. "What can I leave you that you don't already have? My hunting rifle, my over-and-under shotgun are all that come to mind. And, with them, memories of the hunting trips we took together. I think we were the closest then, before things changed and circumstances, more times than not, put us on opposite sides of Ewing Oil." Pamela glared at J.R. with a glowering rebellion, appalled by the unashamed way J.R. prioritised his father's company above his own flesh and blood. A poisonous vein in her body throbbed with pleasure at the sorrowful look on J.R.'s face, the kind painted on a man with a lifetime of regret. "You taught me how to use these guns when we were boys. I never thanked you for that." She bowed her head, fully unable to picture J.R. as an innocent little boy and kind older brother yet she supposed he must have been for Bobby to have adored him so. "There were lots of things you taught me throughout my life I never thanked you for; I do now. You're a good teacher, J.R., the best. I leave you with that compliment and these gifts and I hope the thought of both will give you pleasure."

Almost in slow-motion, Harv's head swiftly moved in Pamela's direction and she called on all the strength she had to rely on to psych herself for Bobby's letter from the sky. "Pamela Barnes Ewing, financially you already have more than you could ever need. Whatever possessions I have seem inadequate to express my feelings for you. But I can leave one thing; the wish that you be happy and the certain belief that you will. Remember the good times, I know there are many, many more to come." The familiar numbness that Pamela had known since Bobby's death started to overwhelm her body once again as she strenuously battled the tears from falling in public.

"To Christopher, my son," Harv kept his eyes registered on hers, as if to remind her to pay attention to detail, yet she wondered why; no words Bobby had written could possibly help their son understand his absence. A single tear started to peek over her eyelid and ran like a river down her cheek. "I leave the remainder of my will, which includes my thirty percent interest in Ewing Oil." Distracted by her own emotion, Pamela barely considered what it would mean for Christopher to inherit Bobby's shares and hoped the will wouldn't be continued with an explanation on how and when her son would become involved in the company first-hand. Judging by the professional nod of the head J.R. silently replied to Harv with, Pamela felt confident that J.R. would handle the legalities of the family business.

Deprived of solidarity since Bobby's death, J.R. decided to goad the meeting to its conclusion and cleared his throat to speak first, "Thank you, Harv, thank you."

The elderly lawyer leaned forward, elbows rested on the wooden oak desk, "There's one more thing…" his voice chimed, his eyes flickering between both J.R. and Pamela before they returned to the letter in hand. "It was Bobby's wish that until Christopher reaches the age of consent, his share of Ewing Oil is to be administered by his mother, Pamela Barnes Ewing." Though she couldn't see his face from behind, Pamela didn't have to see it to visualise J.R.'s face fall at the revelation. From the previous lethargic position, J.R.'s head slowly tilted upright and all muscles tensed at Harv's final words. His slate-shaded eyes met hers, the usual twinkle of blue deadened by the hatred he had conjured as he looked in her direction.

Shattering the moment between them, Miss Ellie gracefully rose from her seat, her purse carefully clutched in her hands, and Clayton mirrored her action, a steady hand on her arm. "Thank you very much, Harv. If that's all…"

The Ewing family started to shift and Pamela followed suit, making certain that she escaped Harv's office before anyone else. Why Bobby had made the hare-brained decision to make her the administrator of Christopher's shares of Ewing Oil completely evaded any sense of reason Pamela had. He must have known the decision appointed her to be J.R.'s business partner; a concept that caused so many butterflies to hover in her stomach that it bordered on a physical sickness. If that weren't enough, J.R.'s voice rung out from the entrance of the building, "Pamela!"

Fiddling with her keys, desperate to jump in the car and breeze away from the moment, Pamela rolled her eyes, "What do you want, J.R.?" With shaky hands, she battled to fit the keys into the car lock as the businessman strolled over with a menacing feel to his approach.

"Now, now… is that any way to talk to your new business partner?" J.R. scolded, leaning against her Porsche.

His attempt to portray such a carefree attitude didn't faze Pamela; his disdained reaction had been painfully evident and frankly Pamela didn't have the heart to blame him. How foolish Bobby had been to adjoin such a mismatched pair of hands and fill them with the crystal ball called Ewing Oil. "Ha! Hell would have to freeze over first."

Pamela's scathing tone brought J.R. a minor sense of relief; if she chose to relinquish all rights of Ewing Oil to him, the company would be completely underneath his control. The very threat that Ewing Oil came even minutely close to Cliff Barnes' hands overflowed J.R. with an unearthly rage that seethed through his blue-blooded veins. "Well, that's about the only thing we'll ever agree on." As she yanked open the door to the drivers' seat, J.R. firmly closed it with only an inch open to ensure Pamela's attention lay solely with him. "I don't know whether my sanctimonious little brother was dumbed down by sentiment or mentally scarred by his brainless decision to marry you but there's no way in hell I'll ever run my daddy's company side by side with anyone, especially you!"

Her brown eyes flared, infuriated by his unnecessary contempt, Pamela ferociously brushed his hand from her car door and mercilessly snapped, "Well, then you'll run it into the ground and good riddance!"

"Listen here, lady –" he began to close in.

"J.R.," his mother's call distracted J.R. from his usual beastly attack, and she slowly approached with Clayton not far behind. "I'd like to have a moment alone with Pam, please, J.R.?" Three against one; Pamela refused to look J.R. in the eye, Miss Ellie eloquently pleaded with hers and Clayton dared J.R. to defy his mother's request. Reluctantly, he straightened his form and smoothed over his suit as a manifestation of relent. Once J.R. walked out of earshot, Miss Ellie sympathetically eyed her former daughter-in-law, who she had barely spoken two words to since Bobby's death. "How's Christopher?"

"He misses his grandmother," Pamela answered in such a positive tone, which soon faded as she made her second remark. "And his daddy…" Bobby's calming presence had become such a gaping wound for them all. Even if he weren't there to witness an argument or testing moment, they always knew they could turn to him for comfort in the aftermath.

"And, how are you?" The auburn haired woman responded with a gentle nod; one more of obedience than assurance but the biting wind blew against their cheeks and Miss Ellie felt slightly soothed by the prospect of an afternoon indoors, so she moved to hurry along the conversation. "It's been difficult for everyone." She kindly noted, completely unaware of the bittersweet last memories Pamela had of her son. "I'd love to see Christopher soon and John Ross has asked after him. What with Sue Ellen missing, he misses his cousin all the more."

A momentary flash of panic paralysed Pamela, "Missing?"

Maternal concern threatened to overflow Miss Ellie's eyes with tears so Clayton took hold of the conversation with a nod of his head, "Nobody's seen or heard from her since the funeral. I've contacted my son, Steven, and he knows how concerned we all are. Unfortunately, the authorities can't take any action for a couple more days."

Pamela couldn't resist an agitated tut aimed toward Sue Ellen. As if the family didn't have enough on their plate; the elderly woman started to look as if she had aged ten years in a mere few days. Timing was everything and Sue Ellen certainly had the worst, to increase the drama in the midst of Miss Ellie's grief. "I'm so sorry. If I hear from her…"

"Thank you, Pam." Miss Ellie gratefully patted her hand.

"Mama?" Her eldest son's voice commanded their attention, "Are you ready?" He stood in the mouth of the open car door with an expectant expression, which could even be noticed from across the road.

As Clayton and Miss Ellie said their goodbyes, filled with heart-warming well-wishes, Pamela could feel the burn of J.R.'s eyes piercing bullet holes in her chest. She knew the Ewing heir well enough to know that Sue Ellen's sudden disappearance couldn't have been pure coincidence and she continued to wonder what it was that Sue Ellen saw in the monster named J.R. Ewing.


	3. To Be or Not To Be

Undisclosed Desires

**Three; "To Be or Not To Be"**

"_To be or not to be; that is the question_," Shakespeare had once outlandishly wondered, and now Pamela struggled to solve a similar jigsaw of confusion. Did she really have what it takes to become partner to the infamous J.R. Ewing? That gleeful grin made her skin crawl, the attempts his vicious demeanour made to intimidate her rarely failed, not that Pamela would allow him the satisfaction of knowing as such, and the much-publicised history between their two families all made for perfect reasons to sign Christopher's shares over and be done with it.

"Gandma…" An inquisitive call came from her son, in the booster seat on the backseat, as Pamela made a right turn underneath the white archway that proudly established the name of the ranch, Southfork.

The Texan sun had already started to play "hide and seek" as it dipped behind the hills in the distant horizon and it left an uncomfortable chill in the air for such an early evening. Bringing her Porsche to a brief halt, Pamela inwardly groaned to recognise J.R. and Miss Ellie's cars were the only ones parked in the drive. If it weren't for the unspoken promise Pamela had made to her late ex-husband to not let Christopher be disconnected from his relatives, Pamela probably would have avoided the vipers' nest on a permanent basis. To think, she had once called Southfork her home; the ranch rapidly lost any appeal, considering the inhabitants that manhandled it with an iron fist. "Come on, baby…" she probed her son, whose fingertips punched excitedly in hopes of releasing his seatbelt.

Bouncing from the backseat, Christopher bounded inside the house and Pamela rolled her eyes with a giggle. Maybe Christopher had inherited his physical appearance from Kristin with those full, pouty lips but Pamela knew from her personal experience that personality could only be inherited from the ones that raised you and Christopher had most definitely inherited Bobby's excitable nature. "Hold on…" she carefully draped her purse over her right shoulder and followed him inside to the foyer of the house, where her son had wrapped himself in the arms of J.R..

"…ha-ha," his blaring chuckle resonated as he returned Christopher to his feet. "Well, well, well, Pamela, this certainly is an unexpected surprise. Don't tell me; you're here to see me, aren't you?" Ignored and unanswered, J.R.'s attempts at a phone call with Pamela had been knocked back more times than he cared to recall. If she could only see beyond her disdain for him, Pamela may just find herself with more money than she even knew existed.

"No, J.R., we're not." The maternal instinct of a lioness sent Pamela's hands scrambling for Christopher's shoulders as her eyes wandered to each visible doorway around them, "I'm here to see Miss Ellie. Is she home?"

The pride his father had drilled into him wouldn't allow Pamela to see him stew and J.R. politely smiled, "She certainly is. C'mon, Christopher, let's go find grandma, shall we?" Knowing exactly how to rile Pamela, J.R. stretched out his hand and guided the child into the kitchen with a cheeky flash of his blue-tinted gaze behind him. "Mama…"

Fumes of concentration that surrounded Miss Ellie dissipated the very moment her eyes lay on the little boy stood beside her eldest son and her arms opened wide for a warm invitation. "Christopher! Hello, sweetheart. What a lovely surprise!" Her hands stroked his boisterous chestnut curls, so similar to Bobby's at his age; to have known Christopher was adopted into the Ewing clan, someone would have had to know the family on a personal basis. "Hi, Pam." She took brief notice of her former daughter-in-law as she firmly entrapped her grandson in her embrace.

On the opposite end of the round kitchen table, J.R. scraped the wooden chair backwards from the table in the oh-so-generous offer of a seat. "Come in, Pamela. There's no need to be shy; this is practically your second home." His welcoming parade rattled Pamela, just as he had undoubtedly suspected it would, knowing she couldn't possibly have reacted negatively in his mothers' presence. Leaning forward, with his hands on the back of her seat, J.R. shot an uncharacteristically pleasant grin in her direction, "I hope you know that, even with Bobby gone, you and Christopher are always welcome here at Southfork." Even his own mother didn't bother to supress how taken aback she was by his friendly façade but J.R. continued with his little trick, "Can I get you a coffee, something stronger?"

Pamela's eyes were stricken with suspicion but she played along, a sickly sweet smile on her lips, "No, thank you, J.R.."

He waltzed behind the kitchen counter and started to pour himself a black coffee when the phone began to ring. His lips burst into another Cheshire-cat grin; if his mother left the room to answer it, J.R. could finally have a shot at convincing Pamela to sell Christopher's stake in Ewing Oil to him, and in a face-to-face conversation nonetheless, where she couldn't hang up the phone or shut him down. Sometimes, his persistence, driven by his ambition, could be almost as strong as his desire to be the sole heir to Ewing Oil, and he soon would be. Wrapped in a daydream of a "what if" for the future, J.R. neglected to acknowledge the frown on his mother's face, which was matched in her faded blue eyes as she reluctantly pulled herself to her feet. "I wonder who that could be. Excuse me, Pam?" His hand in his grandmother's, Christopher playfully trailed behind Miss Ellie into the living room.

"I'm rather disappointed I haven't heard from you since the reading of Bobby's will, Pam." No unnecessary hesitation, J.R. strode right in for the kill, never one to pointlessly beat around the bush. "I've had Sly leave several messages for you at home and at your office. Isn't my offer worth your consideration?"

"Believe it or not, J.R., I've had other things on my mind." Katherine's funeral and the reading of her will had been just as much a priority as Bobby's had been. Despite the sizzling hatred between sisters, loyalty to Rebecca kept Pamela from completely disregarding any responsibility she had for the deceased. Besides, J.R. wasn't the only one vying for a piece of Ewing Oil; apparently word had it, Pamela hadn't acquired much knowledge of the oil business over the years, and in Dallas, word travelled like oil in a pipeline. From West Star Oil, her own brother to international figures in the oil business, the relentless offers had been endlessly flung from every possible direction.

"Well, you don't look too busy to me. Now I know Bobby meant well when he drew up that will but you and I both know he was ill-advised, darlin'." The natural cockiness started to shine through like the flawless diamonds in a dreary mud hole and J.R. relentlessly chuckled, "Hell, you don't anymore about the oil business than that dim-witted brother of yours." The insult threatened to raise Pamela's temper and J.R. surrendered with his hands, a mischievous smile still firmly in place. "Alright, alright… now listen, if you sell Christopher's shares to me, I'll have Harv write up an official contract, to both of our satisfaction, that ensures he receives a percentage of the annual profits." Though Pamela liked to believe her emotions were always kept in check, J.R. had learnt the art of mind-reading in the oil business, which was as much about people as the land, and he could see her mind waver in contemplation. "I know it may not be exactly what Bobby had hoped for but it's the best possible solution."

"Maybe you're right," she shrugged her shoulders. History had proven, in the oil business especially, the Barnes and the Ewing's just didn't mix. Did she even have the temperament to deal with J.R. on a daily basis?

Relief overwhelmed J.R. and he exhaled a long-held breath, "I'll have Harv draw up the agreement –"

The Ewing made a quick dash for the nearest phone but her voice brought him crashing back down to earth. "Hold on, J.R., I didn't say I'd sell to you." A hedonistic piece of her heart revelled in a mud-pit of retribution as the corners of his mouth dipped and his lips formed a hard line. "If I do decide to sell Christopher's shares, I have a responsibility to secure the most prominent offer for the sake of my son and, after all, you're not the only interested party, J.R.."

All blood drained from his face, leaving a deathly porcelain tint to his cheeks. "Don't tell me you're thinking of selling shares of my daddy's company to that idiotic brother of yours!" The smugness seeped through the air and Pamela tilted her head, almost in confirmation of his suspicion.

"Like I said, I'll need to consider every offer on the table." Though she delighted in seeing him squirm, Pamela didn't hold much doubt in her mind that she would sell Christopher's shares to J.R.. Any interest J.R. had in the shares weren't just for sole control of the company but in an effort to protect and provide for the entire family; as much as she loved him, Pamela couldn't say the same for Cliff, nor for Jeremy Wendell. "There's no need to look so worried, J.R.. In business, I understand how important it is to put all personal feelings aside so I will treat your offer as fairly as anyone else's." With a lick of her lips, Pamela crisply smiled at him, "I know how important fairness is to you."

A rapid click of heels shattered any chance of continuing the conversation and Pamela's eyes brightened as the blonde bombshell of the Ewing clan entered the kitchen, with Christopher carefully balanced on the curve of her hips. Her absence from Bobby's funeral had baffled Pamela but there were no time for questions, not with the grave expression on Lucy's usual cheerful face, as her eyes darted between the two adults before they eventually settled on her uncle. "Grandma's asked to speak to you in the living room, J.R.." As if Miss Ellie were the embodiment of the ranch, the entire mood of the house became sombre. By instinct, Pamela followed J.R. out of the kitchen, gently patting Lucy's shoulders as an informal welcome home on her way.

"What is it, mama?" J.R.'s feet were trapped firmly in the doorway and Pamela slid past him, tilting her head in an attempt to look Miss Ellie in the eye. The older woman's shoulders had slumped and the stream of what appeared to be a tear began to trickle down the left side of her face.

"Miss Ellie…" Pamela probed, her forehead broadened with a frown.

Stood beside it, her hand continued to clasp around the handle of the phone so tightly that her knuckles became a deathly shade of white. "That was the Dallas police department." She turned her head to face J.R., her eyes meeting his and the survivor inside forced Miss Ellie to stomach the emotion. She made every effort to swallow the tearful sob that threatened to choke her throat, while her son searched her eyes for information, or even a consolation.

J.R.'s head rose an inch, his eyes hardened to appear as if had expected this moment. "News about Sue Ellen?" It had been nearly two weeks since Bobby's funeral and his wife had seemed to fade into nothing; his son had quizzed him daily about the possible return of his mother but even the authorities didn't have an answer to Sue Ellen's possible whereabouts. Hospitals, even ones in nearby states, were on red alert with possible matches to her description and even the ranch hands were requested to keep an eye out at the local bars, yet everyone had advised them the same; the only possible action was to sit back and wait, no matter how much it tormented them.

Fearing the worst, Pamela held her breath, "Is she alright, Miss Ellie?"

The elderly woman swivelled her body to face them full-on, her hands dropped to each side of her waist. "They've found… a body." She briefly brushed the leftover tears from her cheek, "It matches her description and they'd like a family member to identify it."

Every nerve in Pamela's body seemingly numbed as if she had been the victim of a full-blown attack, beaten black and blue. Each one of them looked as stricken as the next, even J.R.'s chest deflated by considerable measure with the news. When neither mother or son spoke, Pamela stepped forward in an effort to volunteer participation, "Miss Ellie, I would be more than happy to drive you and J.R. to the hospital." The forlorn look on his face assured Pamela that anything regarding the business had evacuated his mind, his thoughts now solely lay with the possibility that the mother of his son and the only wife he had ever known had left their lives for good. No matter how simple the response may have seemed, Miss Ellie's head refused to even nod in grateful acceptance but Pamela didn't need such a gesture and, when Lucy entered the room alone, Pamela turned to who was once her niece. "The police think they've found Sue Ellen so I'm going to drive Miss Ellie and J.R. to the hospital. Can you stay with Christopher?" Under the circumstances, until they had definite confirmation, Pamela didn't see any real provocation to trouble Lucy with the possibility that Sue Ellen hadn't been found alive.

"Sure," Lucy immediately nodded her head. The innate sadness in her grandmother's eyes, and even how dumbfounded J.R. looked, warned Lucy not to challenge the morbid atmosphere that withered the household.

"Thank you, baby." To reassure the young woman, Pamela thankfully curled her arm around Lucy's shoulders. Her car keys were already to hand and she shot an expectant expression in J.R. and Miss Ellie's direction. "Miss Ellie, are you ready?" It shouldn't have been such a shock to the system to see her mother-in-law look so withdrawn, not after all the mind-numbing loss Miss Ellie had recently encountered, but it was. When such a tower of strength toppled like a Jenga block set under pressure, how much chance did someone like Pamela have at facing times of trouble?

At a reluctant pace, Miss Ellie started to reach for her purse and Lucy surveyed the unnatural, neutral feel between her uncle and Pamela; where were the biting remarks about Cliff and catty comebacks? Irked by her lack of knowledge, Lucy mindlessly wandered from the room and J.R. purposely waited until the blonde curls were out of sight before he declared his disagreement. "Mama, are you sure you're up to this?" The sleep-defying images of his brother's last breath had left a permanent imprint on all of their brains; did his mother really need another traumatising picture of Sue Ellen's bloodless face, her entire body bereft of the vibrant life she conquered each and every day with? "There's no certainty that it'll be her, you know?"

"I know that, J.R., that's why the Dallas PD have requested we make a formal identification," his mother calmly answered, as if his previous remark had come from an uncharacteristic moment of stupidity.

"Well, I can do it, mama. There's no sense in all of us going down there." His sense of responsibility, not only to his mother but also to Sue Ellen, increased volumes and J.R. proudly straightened his form in the span of one breath. "Besides, if the worst came to the worst," J.R. swallowed the rising lump in his throat, "She wouldn't want you to see her like that, mama, and neither do I."

"Alright, J.R.." Somehow, Miss Ellie sensed this wasn't the time to quibble with her son and, if she were honest with herself, she didn't know if she could psych herself up for such a troubling task. On seconds thoughts, could her son? His evil exterior only consciously blinded the world to the vulnerabilities and insecurities held inside; deep down, his heart was no different to anyone else's and Sue Ellen's death, no matter how beastly their marriage had become, would crush him. "But I don't want you to be alone."

The seething red devil balanced deviously on Pamela's left shoulder rolled her eyes with a disgruntled demeanour as the untainted white angel curled on Pamela's right shoulder wiped away her tears with a tissue. She swept away any misdemeanours between her and J.R. to the back of her mind and smiled supportively at Miss Ellie, "I'd be more than happy to go with you, J.R.."

For a moment, J.R. contemplated his varied options; if he refused to allow Pamela to drive him, his mother would call another member of the family and _that_ would only make him look weak, as if he really needed someone to hold his hand. If he allowed Pamela to drive him, he could rationalise it as a sacrifice to bestow his mother with peace of mind. It took all his self-control not to roll his eyes as he nodded his head, "Thank you, Pam." His eyes softened with affection as he kissed his mother's cheek to reassure her that her worst nightmare wouldn't fill her with even more dread than before, "I'll be home soon, mama."

If she could promise to return with good news, Pamela would have done just that. But painful, and recent, experience at the hands of J.R. revealed the tormenting truth; there were no guarantees. "We'll be back as soon as we can," she softly spoke and Miss Ellie patted her hand as a mark of gratitude.


	4. Fairytales Are For Children

Undisclosed Desires

**Four; "Fairytales Are For Children… Aren't They?"**

As the traditional fairy-tale proclaimed; it was only when Belle succumbed to reluctant imprisonment by the hideous Beast that his kinder colours of humanity shone through the cracks of his heinous exterior. It was the very irony of those classic bedtime stories and just how subtly they could mirror real life events that amused Pamela. Perched in the most uncomfortable of positions, to the right of the mighty J.R. Ewing, Pamela batted her eyelids several times to confirm the rare glimpse of human emotion the beast momentarily displayed and one she didn't believe he had ever been capable of; remorse. The car journey from Southfork had been an unbearable half-hour silence and the temporary wait at Dallas Memorial Hospital only sought to emphasise the dead air between them but it wasn't J.R.'s words that alluded to his deep regret. It was that very silence, the sudden worry lines etched across his skin and Pamela found herself torn; how could she possibly relieve him of the burden his shoulders heaved? Soothing words of solace were not an option and physical contact had never been an easy interaction, which would have surprised Pamela had she not been Cliff Barnes' little sister; J.R. was the ultimate Texan womanizer after all. In the midst of her consideration, Pamela accepted defeat; it would be easier to console a stranger on the street than J.R. Ewing.

"How much longer?" Though his voice remained lowered, presumably in respect for nearby relatives also awaiting news on their loved ones, J.R.'s foot tapped impatiently to the floor as he briskly rolled his right sleeve upwards and glanced at the hands of his Rolex watch; they had been there for almost twenty minutes. One thousand, one hundred and thirty-three seconds of hell, to be precise…

"The nurse I spoke with said they've almost prepared the body for viewing." Even Pamela flinched inwardly at how her methodically cold words jangled in the room. She physically shook her head free and looked toward J.R., his elbows balanced carefully on his knees as he leaned forward, "Are you alright to go in alone?" Naturally, they hadn't discussed the invisible line that J.R. wouldn't allow Pamela to cross and, in the state of mind he appeared to be in, she didn't feel open to his inevitable wrath. "I did promise Miss Ellie I would accompany you."

As if saved by fate, before J.R. could provide his deadline, a white-coated doctor appeared with a clipboard. "Relation to Mrs Sue Ellen Ewing?" His eyes hopefully scoured the waiting room, until Pamela raised her head in confirmation and J.R. rose to his unsteady feet. "The two of you?" He checked, his manner casual until he noticed the uncertainty between them as J.R. barely turned his head to acknowledge Pamela. "We only require one family member to identify the body but, in some cases, a second party has provided concrete confirmation." His eyes pointlessly lowered to the sheet on his clipboard, maintaining a pretence as he awaited an answer to his initial question. His answer arrived when Pamela warily swept from her seat and lingered behind J.R.. "Ok, if you'll follow me…" Like the sudden jolt when the rollercoaster begins lift off, Pamela trailed after the doctor and J.R. and her mind made a note of everything and anything, desperate to forget the images she should have prepared herself to be presented with. The nauseating stench that seemed to overwhelm every intake of breath, the white walls that had such a loss of colour that it almost became painful to look at, the fifth shot of pain her heels triggered up her leg as she struggled to keep the pace closer and closer toward the morgue. Her thoughts shattered into more seconds of her life lost to who knew where as the doctor started to speak, "The body was discovered in a back-alley in central Dallas. Suspected cause of death is alcohol poisoning and severe liver damage but the results of the autopsy have yet to come back." His hand thumbed to the next page of his files as he started to reel out an exact description of Sue Ellen, "Female brunette, five foot six, hazel eyes, all her teeth…" Anticipation hanging by a thread, his hand rested on the door as he turned to look both J.R. and Pamela in the eye, "You're certain you're prepared for this?"

Never one to back down from a challenge, J.R. played his poker face and pulled on the edge of his suit to straighten the grey jacket. "Let's just get on with it, shall we?"

Chilled further by J.R.'s icy attitude, Pamela placated the goose bumps that had arisen on her arms with a gentle rub as she followed the doctor to the cubicle before last. A nod of the head shared between J.R. and the doctor before he hauled the cubicle door open and the table revealed a feminine shape covered in angelic white cloth. Pamela could feel her heart beating quicker like a deer caught in headlights and the blood drained systematically from J.R.'s face only confirmed the intensity of the literally life-and-death moment. Almost in slow-motion, the doctor peeled the sheet away from the head and Pamela let an almighty cry of relief escape from her throat. While the olive tint to the now sallow skin of the unidentified was reminiscent of Sue Ellen, those cracked lips weren't as full, and those cheekbones didn't hold anywhere near as much grace as the Texan beauty queen's did. "It's not her!"

The doctor's head swivelled to J.R. for full confirmation and J.R. forcefully swallowed to clear the glitch in his throat, motionlessly scrambling to disguise his horror at the experience he had just endured. "There's no way in hell that's my wife." His expression filled with disdain, as if the doctor had purposely wasted precious minutes of his time, J.R. brushed past Pamela and the iciness of the room only increased as the metal clinked when the door slammed shut.

"Thank you very much," Pamela threw the doctor the kind of smile that merited such relief before she exited the morgue and discovered J.R. in the empty corridor with his back to the nearest available wall. "J.R…."

"If it had been Sue Ellen, I don't know what I would have done." His eyes quickly darted to Pamela, as if he had just involuntarily provided a murder confession, instead of a subtle statement of love. "How I could have told John Ross…" A look of knowing flashed across Pamela's face; how well she knew _that_ tactic. After the divorce, she had cleverly disguised the unrequited love she held Bobby in with the kind of bond only parents could share but, like herself, J.R. could barely even fool himself into such deception; his love for Sue Ellen ran much deeper than their son.

"Well, now you don't have to worry; I can drive you back to Southfork and we can concentrate on finding Sue Ellen before either one of us has to endure something like this again." The heart-stopping sound of the machines monitoring Bobby's final breath continued to reverberate around Pamela's brain and she closed her eyes as she dipped her head, "I know there's nothing worse than to try explain such a loss to your child." When informed of his father's death, Christopher's youth had had the better of him. Cheated by his youth, unable to comprehend how much Bobby's death would affect him, Pamela knew her son still long-awaited his father's return. Preventing herself from becoming trapped in a whirlwind of memories, Pamela forced herself to hold a smile as she rummaged inside her purse for her car keys. "Would you like to call Miss Ellie before we leave?"

A contemplative "ah" slipped from J.R.'s parted lips, "No, I think I'll let her know the good news in person." He looked to the nearby nurses' desk, "There's no reason to stay here any longer than we already have. Shall we…?"

With a systematic nod of her head, Pamela re-buckled her purse and followed the direction of his outstretched arm. A prolonged silence ignited and Pamela embraced the opportunity to regenerate in the aftermath; as relieved as she was, just because the body wasn't that of Sue Ellen's, it didn't necessarily mean Sue Ellen was safe. And, judging by J.R.'s reaction to the possibility of Sue Ellen's fate being sealed, the "marriage from hell" had been grounded by much more than appearances. If his intentions were as pure as they appeared to be in the uncontrollable charge of emotion Pamela had witnessed, his next move to remedy the situation was of the utmost importance. Nearly fifteen minutes preceded before Pamela gathered the courage to strike conversation, "I called the ranch before I brought Christopher out to visit and, I only spoke briefly with him but, Clayton mentioned that Sue Ellen had been seeing Dusty before she disappeared. Is it possible that she's _still_ with him?"

The thunderous look of fury flashed across J.R.'s pride-stricken features and Pamela unconsciously tightened her grasp on the steering wheel, wishing she had remained silent. "I sincerely doubt that. Farlow may have been stupid enough to try and make off with my wife once but even he can't be stupid enough to try it twice. He already knows from bitter experience that he doesn't have what it takes to satisfy Sue Ellen."

Like the fat kid who had just collected the last chocolate bar and paraded his consumption in front of his starving peers, the smarmy tone complimented the gentle smirk that his lips had naturally curled into. Pamela rolled her eyes, before she made another dreaded assumption "And what about Cliff?"

The name "Cliff" removed J.R.'s light mood as quickly as it had appeared. "When my mama requested you escort me to Braddock County Hospital, I'm sure she was under the impression that the experience would make you and I allies of some sort, especially with Bob's will being what it is. However, I don't think she envisioned you scrolling out a list of names with whom my wife may or may not have been unfaithful with." His condescending tone scolded Pamela for the mention, as he attempted to recover face, "Your weasel of a brother wouldn't dare to cross me, not like that."

"Oh, come on, J.R.." She scoffed, despaired by his apparent naiveté. "I may love my brother but Cliff would do just about everything and anything, if he thinks it'll get him under your skin. And, as far as Sue Ellen's _list_ is concerned, I don't think hers is even on the scale in comparison to yours, J.R.. If she did decide to run off with another man, you'd have no one to blame but yourself. Unfortunately, for Sue Ellen, I don't think this situation is that simple." Nobody had openly discussed it, at least not with Pamela, but she knew Sue Ellen well enough to know that addiction or no addiction, she would never permanently abandon her son, certainly not for the simplicity of another man. "I'd be more than happy to call in on him on my way home. I promise you, he won't have an inkling I'm there on your behalf and, whatever I do or don't find, I'll let you know."

Taken aback by her seemingly genuine kindness, J.R. sharply inhaled and muttered, "Thank you. I'd appreciate it."

Another gutting silence appeared but the seconds whizzed on until they reached Southfork, where Pamela came to a sudden halt when her eyes spied the time; 7:56pm. Nearly an hour after her son's regular bedtime, weekend or not, and Pamela remained belted in her seat as J.R rushed to evacuate his. "J.R., could you let Miss Ellie know that I'm not feeling well and ask her to look after Christopher for the night?" His brow furrowed, possibly in concern, but more likely in confusion, and Pamela rushed to clarify her request. "I'm fine. It's just already so late and, if I'm going to see Cliff, I don't want Christopher to witness any argument if I do find Sue Ellen. D'you think she'll mind?"

J.R. shook his head, "Course not., you know how much mama loves to see him." He balanced his hand on the open door and looked down at Pamela, "…So you'll call to let me know what you find?"

"Scout's honour," Pamela promised, her tone high.

"Well, I should get inside and see John Ross before his bedtime. He misses his mother enough as it is, I don't want him to think that I've abandoned him as well." If anyone needed to see what love looked like, Pamela would have shown them J.R.'s face at the mention of his son. It was the blue crystal behind the clouds of grey in those eyes of his, his example of both black and white to his personality; every beast had his own rose.

"It's a relief to know we could bring home hope that he'll see her again tonight, instead of bad news." As he prepared to close the door shut, Pamela leaned over and refreshed her expression to a more serious shape, "And, J.R…." her sentence cut itself off as she hesitated, "Cliff may have been my brother but I never supported his decision to be with Sue Ellen, despite your dislike for me or mine for you. I'm only sorry I couldn't have prevented things from going as far as they did. That affair was really what threw her drinking into a whole new ballgame, wasn't it?"

More serene than ever before, J.R. straightened his suit, "Regardless of Barnes, Sue Ellen's always been… Sue Ellen." His eyes seemed to divert over the hood of her car and into the distance, dragged deep into thought, before he crashed back to earth. "She'll come back, when she's ready to. If not for me, then for our son."

No "goodbye" necessary for the moment, J.R. closed the door and wandered inside the house while Pamela remained on the spot, for a mere second or two, before she reversed and sped away from Southfork. As a child, the forbidden love story of "Romeo and Juliet" had spoken like seductive whispers to Pamela's childish heart, but sharing such an intimate and possibly life-changing moment, she experienced a revelation in the classic tale of "Beauty and the Beast" in being able to see the best in everyone… even the real-life monsters like J.R. Ewing.


End file.
